


Flying Free

by Olive_Grace102



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Fictional, Hybrids, M/M, Original work - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, mild romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 02:29:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19432051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olive_Grace102/pseuds/Olive_Grace102
Summary: Delilah isn't normal. There's something that she's going through that no-one can know about. That is until she meets people who are going through the same thing, but differently. Just when Delilah feels at home and safe with her new companions, problems just keep coming. It starts her wondering if she'll ever really be Flying Free.





	1. Chapter 1: Taking Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delilah's life isn't easy, dealing with bullying, a not so great and an unpresent mother figure. The only good part of her life is her cat; Ginger. Nightmare's haunt her sleep and people haunt her day, unless something miraculous happens, her life is just going to keep going downhill.

I turn, only to find myself cornered, for once I wish I was smaller, as the shadows grow bigger… “Aaaah” I sit straight upright in my bed panting. That was the fifth nightmare this week. I feel around with my outstretched hands to see if I can find my cat; Ginger. Finally, my ice-cold fingers touch a soft fur. I lean over to my lamp and turn it on, a soft yellow shine fills my pitch-black room. I tug out the hair tie from my long brown hair, it stings a bit. I slowly pull all the stray hairs out of the elastic’s grip. I throw the hairs into the bin by my bed. I plant my bare foot down on the cold, wooden floor. A shiver runs up my spine as my soft toe touches the ice-cold floor. I pull my sweatshirt over my face and throw it on to the floor. “I’ll pick it up later” I grumble to Ginger.

I waddle over to my messy closet and grab my favorite hoodie, the only one that still fits, and the one covered in cat fur. Thanks Ginger. As I pull it over, a tuft of hair falls in my face. I attempt to blow it off, after many attempts, I brush it behind my ear. Ginger promptly hops down from my bed and begin curling around my feet, purring like a motor. I grab my- I mean, my mother’s hairbrush and ran it through my hair, the brush stopping at every knot. Before I realized I there were tears running down my cold, pale face. The tears splashing on my petrified cat below. Ginger tenderly ran out the room to avoid my tears. I grab a cloth and wipe my face with warm water. I pull down my sweatpants and pull on my jeans. Dusting off, yet again, more cat fur. I pull my hair into a messy ponytail and tug my hoodie over my face. Grabbing my backpack, I go to the kitchen where my dad has a cigarette in his mouth, per usual. I feel the smoke fill my lungs and let out a series of hoarse coughs before covering my mouth with my black face mask.

I trudge to the table where my dad has opened a can of beans and poured the contents in a mug. The spoon is cold, like the beans and the mug and everything in this house, except for Ginger and part of me, the part that people must never know. I shovel the beans into my mouth before grabbing the money at the top of the fridge. I can count $3.27. I hide it down the front pocket of my jeans, the part covered by my oversized hoodie. Hopefully the money won’t be taken from me today. I bend down to pet Ginger but was stopped in my tracks by a grunt. I stand upright and brace myself for the blow, my father turned, baring a sneer. “The Trash?” He scowled. I nod my head and trudge outside to grab the bin and wheel it to the front of the driveway. Rocks hurt under my bare feet, I bite my lip and keep wheeling, determined to not let the pain get to me. When I get to the end of the driveway, I set the bin upright and hobble over to the mailbox. Hesitantly, I open it, hands shaking. As I reach in, my hand touches the parchment scroll that I knew would be there. I bring it just close enough to read the handwriting. “Dear Delilah” I read aloud.

The fog suddenly becoming thicker, slipping the letter in my front pocket, I grab Ginger, whose sitting on top of the mailbox, and run inside avoiding the larger rocks. I place Ginger on the couch and grab my bag. I mumble a goodbye and head to the garage. My scooter leans against the old car, the one we never drive. I grab my helmet and hop on my scooter, riding into the thick fog. Left, rights, hills and valleys all as familiar as the back of my hand. Even with the fog, I time every turn perfectly. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve lived in Helena your entire life. Trimsten High is just two lefts, a right and another left away. Trimsten, a place of joy and not so joy, everything you could ever imagine happened there did. Earthquake in 2006, shooting in 2009, Landslide in 2015 and me arriving in 2016. Or maybe my arrival was for the better, gave the students something to do when they were bored. Bullying and teasing was not uncommon for Trimsten, in fact it’s the school with the most records of bullying in all of Helena. Bullies being bullied, teachers being bullied, students being bullied, and most commonly me. I’m the obvious candidate, short, skinny, rather bulgy at the back, blue eyes and coming from a poor family.

Once I arrive, I can see that the schoolyard is littered with bullies, so I take my secret entrance out the back, through the janitor’s closet. The janitor is about the only nice guy in all Trimsten high, and I’m the only one who knows about the entrance and I intend to keep it that way. Fumbling, I grab the key off the chain around my neck and insert it into the keyhole. As I enter, I see the janitorgrabbing his kit. “Hey Delilah” He mumbled. “Hey Charles” I beamed. “there’s a sandwich on the table if you’re still hungry” He grumbled. I smile and go to unwrap the carefully wrapped in clingwrap sandwich. Shoving it down my throat, I feel instantly better. I grab the piles of books I left here the night before. Algebra, English and history, all I’ll need for the awful day. “Thanks Charles” I smiled as I swung open the door, the door leading to hell...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am planning on posting this every 1-2 days or whenever I have time to. :)


	2. Spreading my Wings

I move quickly to my locker, determined to get there before Benjamin does, intertwining crowds, lines of people and corridors. Man, Trimsten is confusing. Pulling my hoodie down over my face even more, I keep my head down as I weave my way to my locker. At last, I made it. I grab my keychain from around my neck and insert the golden key into my mum’s lock, my fingers touching the cold lock. I Swing open my locker as a loud creak fills the corridor, followed by a loud bang and a scream. Yelling out comes Benjamin with his signature jacket and baseball bat in hand. “Delilah Poorpy Jownes” He mocked. I turn to grab my sketchpad from my book pile and quickly close my locker, locking it as I begin to sprint down the hallway. I want to duck into the Charles’ closet, but I can’t let Benjamin know that’s where I hide. The schoolyard exit is small, only big enough for about three students at a time. You could fit ten of me and still have room to move. I slip past Jill and Sam and run out into the schoolyard. I run into a cluster of trees; I hear Benjamin yelling. I peek around me, looking for possible witnesses. Once I’m sure it’s safe, I pull off my hoodie. They begin flapping ferociously as they attempt to gain altitude. I hear a yell in the schoolyard, and everyone goes silent. I frantically grab my hoodie and pull it over my head, as a hand violently grabs my arm. I know better than to scream, I’ll be in even more trouble than if I don’t. I want to scream, yell, call the police for child abuse. But I know there’s no point, no one gives a damn about what happens in this town. I feel a tug on my arm, and it all goes dark. I open my eyes to a face. Lipstick as blue as a Blue Delphiniums, my mother’s favorite flowers, blue hair to match. A black and white tee and massive blue eyes that looked like they were analyzing me. Smoke filled my lungs; a familiar sensation and my eyes began to sag. Slowly I drifted away. When I awoke again, the blue girl was nowhere to be seen. Replacing her were two black figures with face masks, probably to protect them from the stuff they gassed me with. I unwind my face mask from around my wrist and pull It over my mouth. Finally, being able to breathe clearly now. I attempt to stand up, but my legs feel like jelly and I can’t get them to operate properly. A gruff voice breaks the silence. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The tallest one sneered. I feel a lump in my throat, and I can’t find the words to speak. “Oh no, cat got your tongue?” The shorter one reached down and snapped my student ID card from around my neck. “Delilah Jones, ey” they sneered. “So, Jeremy, she the one we’re looking for?” the other one pondered. “Better contact Delphi and make sure, right Liv” Jeremy said. Liv brushed her fiery red hair behind her ear, nodded and pulled out a small device and began what I assumed to be typing. Almost instantly, the door opened, and the blue haired girl waltzed in holding a bare grimace on her pale face. “Hey Delphi, we need confirmation, is this the girl?” Jeremy queered, as Delphi approached me cautiously as if I were dynamite. Take the hoodie off, the words that haunted me ever since. Those were the words that came out of Delphi’s mouth. "No, No, please no!” I screamed as she approached me. “Why not?” she said sweetly. “I-I, just please don’t”. I stuttered. She bent down and ripped off my face mask. It felt like dad’s slaps, it stung so painfully. Then they released the gas again, and it was black.


End file.
